I do love take pictures with my camera and shoot a great many but I don't consider myself good enough to call myself a photographer. There are too many really fine photographers out there to put myself in their league. Professional quality photography takes more work and knowledge than most people suspect. Great motorcycle racers make going fast look easy, great photographers make shooting great pictures look easy. If it was easy we'd all be Valentino Rossi or Ansel Adams.
The bikes of today are the best ever, the safety gear the best ever, and the brotherhood of the road as good as ever so it's nice then that in the area of art that motorcycling no longer has to ride pillion in the art world except perhaps in the mind of art snobs. Even those are fewer in number since the Guggenheim Museum with it's "Art of the Motorcycle" exhibition elevated bike design itself to the level of art in the public mind. With the current generation of riders more well fixed financially than ever before, working artists have a more of a reason to create fine motorcycle art. It's truly satisfying to see another area of motorcycling being expanded and brought to a higher level.
So in my web ramblings I've run across many, many artists now doing motorcycle subjects and one I ran across today is Don Greytak. Up in Montana Don has been busy drawing scenes of farm life in a way somewhat reminiscent of Norman Rockwell but in black and white. If you grew up on a farm or spent any real time on a farm you're bound to have some memories stirred by his work.
Often part and parcel with farm life in days gone by were motorcycles. Greytak captures this nicely as part of rual life alone with the tractors, animals, and other more obvious elements. The reason old Indians and Harleys were so often reputed to be found in barns was because motorcycles in days of yore provided a good alternative transportation (and fun) for a farmer or his sons. In fact, my first ride ever on a motorcycle was on my Uncle Harold's farm back about 1962 or '63 on a little Honda 50. Uncle Harold's son Jerry had a Triumph 650 that frightened me with it's sheer size (I got over that).